


The Prospekt

by Cchenyaa



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:10:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4578306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cchenyaa/pseuds/Cchenyaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I could spot my enemies from a distance, but with her it was apparent that I was able to detect potential allies up close."</p><p>Clint was sent on a killing mission to Saint Petersburg. His target was Natalia Alianova Romanova but he made a different call, a decision that could cost him his sanity.</p><p>This fic is influenced by Nikolai Gogol's spectacular novella, "Nevsky Prospekt".<br/>Only influenced, I'm not even half-close to this genius' style and rich form of writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A city without Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> This is a labor of love and I hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> A few cautionary notes:  
> English isn't my mother tongue, so I hope you'll excuse my simple sentence structures and my errors.  
> +  
> I haven't read the comics, so the characters in the story are based on their depiction in the MCU.  
> But I added some features I got from my daily scroll down (...down...down) Tumblr. 
> 
> I promise more action next time, this is just the setting!

I followed the path of Nevsky Prospekt in Saint Petersburg for days and nights, trying to get the vibe of the city's main street while learning the specifics of the place. People from all sorts of life roamed the wide sidewalks: business men and women, children, local tenants with their pets, the rich, the homeless and those who worked hard to stay in the middle. The street celebrated the variety with which people enriched city life. It was hard to encounter the same face twice, appearances changed according to the busy pace of the day. The noise compressed everything into little particles, enabling everyone to breathe small dosages of oxygen. It was the perfect place to spend the day and it was also crowded enough to easily hide from or spy on anyone.

I was assigned by my director, Nick Fury, to catch a young Russian rogue who was working for the KGB. It was a joint mission with a (sort of) Russian branch of S.H.I.E.L.D. that was put together with the sole intention of catching criminals like her: Natalia Alianova Romanova, a teenager who was trained since she was a toddler for a sole purpose -- to kill. She had assassinated several S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in the past, played a big role in the escalation of nuclear warfare and - no matter who tried to tame her - she remained unhinged, a Rottweiler out to bite without mercy. She was supposed to be my first serious mission abroad, a chance to prove to Fury, my boss Coulson and myself that I was an asset and more capable as an agent than ever.

I spent my days prior to the trip to Saint Petersburg trying to gather as much information as I could about that little agent. During her 18 years of living, she had managed to change several aliases, faces, hairstyles, always able to walk around unnoticed and leave without any traces behind. Even then she was way more professional than me; her only disadvantage was that she didn't know anything about my existence, including my skill set, and the fact that I could take her from a distance, without her knowing I'm there aiming my arrow at her heart.

I got my intel from the Russian branch; they had a mole inside the KGB, a woman who served in the high ranks of the agency. She appointed Natalia to a mission to kill Teddy Dunne, another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was assigned to tag along with me. S.H.I.E.L.D. created a whole file on Dunne, who played a young American CEO set for a meeting with Hungarian reps on matters the KGB didn't agree upon. His job was to make sure that Natalia, who was going undercover as a prostitute, entered his hotel room. My job was to stay alert from the rooftop of the building across the street and make my shot. Dunne and I were not to be seen together at any time. We took different flights to Saint Petersburg, we slept in different hotels and the only form of communication we had was through our agents back at home.

We were informed about the day of the operation only in the morning; I was to trace Dunne from afar and make sure everything was going according to plan. On my daily walks around Nevsky Prospekt I found a nice coffee shop with an art gallery on the second floor where I could get a wider look of the street through the wide glass windows. Dunne was supposed to meet Natalia a few blocks away from there, and invite her to his hotel room for a fun night of fondue (a S.H.I.E.L.D. slang for sex, I've never asked about the origin of it).

Natalia waited for her alleged costumer while leaning her back on the wall, chewing gum and using every bit of her body to taunt every person who showed special interest in her. Dunne approached her on the street at exactly 6.33pm; she sported a tight black dress with a cleavage that left little to the imagination, but kept her legs covered with a long skirt; a nice but too blunt way to cover up the weapons beneath it. I couldn't hear their conversation, but her smile suggested that she was playing along to a script she had never been given. He gently ran his fingers over her shoulder, slipping them down her arm to grab her hand and take her to his hotel, but she resisted him. With a flirty look, she pulled him closer and whispered something in his ear that I would've been able to read if her face wasn't all covered by her long red locks. She changed the game by taking Dunne to an alternate direction.

One of the main principles taught during S.H.I.E.L.D. training is that missions never go according to plan; it is up to us to be alert at all cost and figure out a solution in a matter of seconds. For a lazy ass like me it was a great exercise in keeping the brain working without thinking too much about other important things such as pizza or coffee. Natalia led Dunne to another place, and the only option I could see for me was to follow them down as discretely as I could. I left the place (not without a generous tip for the bouncy waiter) and thanks to Dunne's black wig I could easily trace them. She led him to the end of the street, where it became less crowded and I was able to track both of them down.  
I solemnly celebrated the fluency of the mission in spite of the little twists and turns, but she briefly ended the festivities. The young spy interrupted me with a sudden luring look that she gave Dunne as she turned around to meet his face. The wind brushed her hair backwards, allowing me to get a more detailed look at her facial features. Even though I was hiding from the two while keeping a safe distance, I could see each and every soft detail on the pale canvas of her face. She caught me off guard, not only with her ragged beauty, but also with the fragile lines of her face. She directed a little smile at Dunne, a flirty gesture that could make any man/woman dismantle his/her weapon and just surrender to her. But there was something more than sexual innuendo there; a little tremble on the side of her lips alerted me that she wasn't fully there in the moment. Her big green eyes examined the man in front of her, as if she was gathering information and saving it on a hard drive locked behind her cornea. There were lots of secrets kept hidden beneath her surface, and an internal button turned on a new reflex in me that tempted me to unravel her, to seek a way to make her transparent. I was supposed to go up against her, but a voice inside told me she needed me to do the exact opposite. I was so immersed in that moment that it felt as if I was there instead of Dunne, admiring how imperfect her attempt at achieving perfection was. That notion shortly dissipated when she turned back to lead Dunne down her planned route and I was left behind, mesmerized by the sudden yearning to switch places with him, to cut the operation and tell Fury it's better to call it all off. I could spot my enemies from a distance, but with her it was apparent that I was able to detect potential allies up close.

She led us to a building in a narrow alley a couple blocks to the East. From the outside it looked like an actual brothel, too authentic for my taste. It was clearly a setup to make the operation flow faster than usual. Dunne was Romanova's target and she wouldn't waste too much time on killing him. I sent our new location to headquarters and in a matter of 30 seconds a man approached me head-on, clashed into me and dropped my bow and arrow at my feet. I climbed up the pipes on the nearest building that would give me a better view. Natalia led her supposed victim to a room with very small windows and I had the perfect shot to take her down, kill her right there and then. But I didn't, my arrow went straight through the glass and hit her exactly where I intended: on her left shoulder.

Dunne, who expected a killing shot, stood there with anticipation. When he figured out that I wasn't going to finish the job, he made a quick jump out of the window down to the street and a quick flip so he would land on the back of his self-inflating coat. I told headquarters to ask Dunne to meet me at the coffee shop, but before that I needed to do one last thing. From the window I could see Natalia pulling out the arrow; she examined every inch and then turned to face me. I made sure she had seen the whole of me before I made the same move as Dunne and ran away from the area. There wasn't any chance she would hunt me down, since I used an arrow that contained a sedative that would knock out even the strongest of women.

The clashing guy came to visit me on my way back to the coffee shop. He greeted me with squinted lips. I figured it was a sign of anger for what I'd decided to do earlier. I gave him back my utilities and headed into the coffee shop, where a sweaty Dunne waited for me with a bottle of water at hand.

"What was that, Barton?" he asked me in between deep breaths, "you were supposed to kill her and now what? You blew both of our covers!"

"I know, I think it's time for you to head back to headquarters, I'll handle it from here."

"Really?" He expressed his rage by throwing the wig on the table. "Who gave you that order?"

"I'll talk to Coulson as soon as you're out, explain it all. It's on me, don't you worry." I kept my tone relaxed though I only half-knew what I was saying or doing.

"If she has seen you, you probably should head back with me too, she'll track you down in no time."

"That's part of my plan."

"Barton, I know you're crazy… but ARE YOU CRAZY?"

"Yes, but I have this itch in my stomach telling me that if this goes as I'm planning, then S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to land the best agent they've ever had."

"You're going to convince Nick Fury to hire a Russian spy?"

"To me she seems redeemable, and if I'm wrong, it will be accounted as my mistake."

Dunne giggled nervously, "Which you will probably pay for with your life."

"I'll take that risk."

He backed off a little, took several steps away from me as a gesture of surrender. My confidence struck him as odd. It startled me too since till then I'd tried my best to keep myself away from these kinds of dangers/responsibilities. "An itch in the Stomach, huh?" he asked while packing up his stuff before leaving.

"Yeah, maybe it's from the lack of pizza around this neighborhood."

"Oh," he giggled with a wink, "good luck with that too."


	2. From the shops to a close encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint has to face the consequences of his decision not to kill Natalia
> 
> (I can hear Chandler Bing's voice in my head asking "could you BE more evasive?")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is still not my mother tongue so please excuse any error,  
> I hope you'll enjoy the chapter, there's much more action to come!
> 
> Check out the end notes for thank yous.

Coulson ordered me to get to the nearest phone shop to pick up a cell so we would be able to talk using a secure line. I took that as an opportunity to practice my Russian. I did as I was told and found a shop a few buildings north from the coffee place. The guy behind the counter asked me what I was looking for, and I followed the script we always used at S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Good evening. I’m looking for a Nokia 7210, I’d like it in blue.”

“It doesn’t come in blue, sir.” 

The Nokias actually did come in blue, the regular costumer would rightfully argue that, but I wasn’t planning on anything ordinary, “Brown then.” 

The guy went from white to translucent the second I named the color, since Brown meant crucial in S.H.I.E.L.D. code, and he anxiously asked me to wait there. That was a great Russian practice, I mumbled to the empty space in the store. The same guy came back from the alleged storage room with a version of Nokia I didn't know, covered by one of Coulson’s many Captain America designs (he swore that one day he’ll have it signed; I didn’t dare to ask how, since Rogers was presumed dead back then). Damn Coulson, always has to leave his mark on his machines, I noted to myself. 

“Will this do?” he asked me in German; this was probably another little punishment from my dearest director, because he knew I hadn’t picked up on any Deutsch yet. 

“Ah, da.” I gave him a little grin to make me look less stupid, but it didn’t do the trick. 

“You have a 10 minute walk until the next phone shop you see; you have to give it back in 15. Chief Director’s orders.” He continued to mumble in German and I couldn’t hide my frustration from understanding ZILCH of what he was saying. I just nodded, and he gave me an additional little bag with a sim card and a note saying: “If you ever come back from here alive, take German lessons, Schmuckeye. We have 14 minutes to talk, say thank you to that invisible man and turn left from the store. Yours truly, hopefully soon-to-be former boss.”

I placed the sim inside, opened my new temporary phone and as I got a signal, Shakira's “Whenever, Wherever” started to ring and it wouldn’t let me answer until the end of the chorus. As embarrassing as it was, I’d always appreciated Coulson’s creative way of humiliating his employees.

“Hello,” I answered with ennui. “How may I help you?”

“I’m the only one allowed to tell jokes, Barton.” It was Coulson. “Now give me the briefest explanation to why you compromised this whole operation!”

“We need a girl like her to join our forces.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s some love at first sight crap.”

“Love is for children, Herr Direktor. I think we need someone like her on our side. She’s got all the right training in the Red Room and she’s got inside intelligence to help us fight the KGB and other institutions.”

“And what makes you think she’ll agree to take our side?”

“I don’t think, I know.”

“She’s brainwashed, Barton. Have you ever been brainwashed? Because these things are really hard to tackle.”

“Coulson, I need you to trust me on this. There’s something…”

“Something about her? I thought your special skill was to spot targets from a distance, since when were you gifted with a sixth sense?”

“Director…”

“Don’t director me! You’ve already risked Dunne’s life, I got him shipped back to headquarters. You’re alone on this.”

“Just trust me.”

I heard his loud sigh from the other end, “Why do you think I didn’t ship YOU back? Be careful, Agent Barton.” Another sigh came into my ear. “I trust you, but listen, you’re going to have to go back a few buildings to the shop, you walk too fast and you just missed the store.”

“Thank you, Herr Direktor. But before we go, can you be less of a teenager with the phone cover next time?” 

He hung up as soon as I finished that sentence.

After returning the cellphone to the shop I made a reservation for a room at a different hotel. It was a precaution in case Natalia was already up from the little coma I had put her in and on her way to finish me. 

The air at the old hotel was clammy, I felt my lungs begging me to try and look for someplace else to breathe but I had to act quickly and it was the first hotel I found. I took the room on the highest floor, which was the fifth, and “enjoyed” a nice trip up the stairs since the elevator hadn’t been invented yet when the owner/doorman/receptionist was born. My room was situated at the end of the corridor. When I got inside I first took a look at the bed. It looked ready for me to take over with freshly washed and ironed sheets. There wasn’t a bathroom door, just a blue shower curtain with cute smiling fish drawn on it. The old floor looked shiny, and there weren’t any tracks of dust on the cabinets on either side of the bed. Everything was tidy, too tidy for a hotel that hired only one man who welcomed me with a mayonnaise spread on the right corner of his mouth.

I figured my luggage got sent back to headquarters in the trustworthy hands of agent Dunne, so I thought it was best to go shopping for the basics: Clean shirt, clean trousers and coffee. All these thought about shopping was making me tired. My practical plans were rendered nocturnal and I felt the bed was begging me to check it out. Lying on the bed, I could see the mold eating the ceiling above me, turning the yellow paint into something resembling the color of vomit. Before turning yellow myself, I heard a suspicious noise. I got up real fast, which made me a little dizzy. When I turned my head to the air-conditioning vents I saw white smoke coming out of it. The next thing I remember was a knock on the door that woke me from my sleep.

I opened the door to the owner, who was dressed in an awkward tuxedo suit with too much purple and green in the wrong places. He told me in a language that only reminded me of Russian (but somehow I understood every word) that I had a guest waiting for me in the lobby, but I didn’t remember talking to anyone about me staying in that rat hole. Without hesitation I went down the stairs and saw a different lobby than the trippy warehouse from before. It was lit with bright yellow lamps that hung from the ceiling, and the enlarged space was decorated with fine furnishing. On the beige sofa at the end of the room sat a woman who I recognized only when I took a few steps closer. It was Natalia. She wore a Victorian gown, her legs were kept under a black hoop skirt, and her cleavage looked as fine as when I first met her. She shot me a flirty smile but I hesitated whether I should continue with the twisted game she was trying to play with me. 

I started to second-guess myself. How does an agent such as myself, who’s under a threat of someone who’s been named “Slavic Shadow”, surrender so lightly to her venom? As though my limbs were manipulated by her web, I followed her out of the hotel. She took me by the hand and before we entered another building she turned back to look at me the same way she had at Dunne. I felt a sudden rush within me to take her to the next dark alley and show her what I’m really made of, to let our pheromones direct our communication. But she stopped me with her hand filling the gap between our lips and nodded towards the entrance. 

“We should go,” she said with a perfect American accent, “the guests are waiting for us.”

We entered a long corridor of mirrors. I couldn’t help but look at us both treading down that path, both dressed formal and elegant, like aristocrats. I’ve never owned a tux, but that thought occurred to me only later on. As we got closer to the main hall, I heard an orchestra playing an unknown classical tune, a Waltz which invited us into a large room packed with extravagant dresses and masks. The strangers around me looked as if they were in some kind of gothic trance; their limbs moved only to the rhythm of the tune, never losing sight of their companions through their black veils. I, on the other hand, had lost sight of Natalia and only when I turned to the far end of the hall, could I see her red hair taunting me as she brushed her fingers through her curls. With a little bite of the lip, she encouraged me to make my way past the dance floor towards her. My eyes were locked on target and I accepted her invitation. I couldn’t help but bump into the other guests with every step I made; her green eyes left me transfixed in the midst of my journey towards her. But something stopped me halfway, my legs were suddenly glued to the floor and I couldn’t move. A man crept up behind me and cuffed my hands and before I could get any sense of what was happening I woke up in the hotel room with my hands and legs tied to a bed, and the Black Widow made herself comfortable on my belly.

“Снилось что-нибудь хорошее?” she asked me, but it took me some time to get a grip on where I was and what language she spoke. When I finally regained most of my senses, she asked me again and I was able to understand her, “Did you have a nice dream?”

I felt my brain too numb to function or form a sentence in any language.

“Я задала тебе вопрос!” she slapped me in the face,”all you Americans are always so eager to talk and now nothing? Should I feel insulted?”

Still all the signals coming from my brain were summed by mumbles, so I thought it best to just keep silent until I could figure out where I was. I knew she asked all these questions not because she was interested in the content of my answers, but because she was trying to make sure I was conscious. 

But this didn’t last very long. “Ну и ладно!” she yelled and furiously slapped me again and the hard blow sent me right back to Nevsky Prospekt where she was whispering mumbo jumbo in my ear, a sort of Gibberish her voice decorated with poetic eroticism. I was leaning my back on a brick wall with my tux on, and she with her black dress pressing herself against me, asking me how much I would be willing to pay for the night. She let me feel her breasts and gasped while she rolled my hands down to her crotch. It all happened too quickly. Underneath the satin fabric her curvaceous lines directed me to follow their trails, waiting for me to tear off the unnecessary cloth and expose them so everyone could see. 

But I resisted the temptation, since a sudden recollection of her slapping me with no mercy on a strange bed came to my head and alerted me from taking any step further. I took her by the hand, asked her politely to follow me and she obliged without resistance. I didn’t know where I was going, nor did I know why the hell I started running. But that’s what I did until I looked back and only caught a glimpse of her shoe as it struck me in the head and I was back at her mercy on the bed.

“What were you dreaming about?” she asked, the darkness between the candles in the room making her look like a demon. “Скажи мне!“ she yelled and as if her scream wasn’t enough, she pinched me on both sides of my lower back so I’d gain all my consciousness back.

At first I had to cough my Russian out, “It… you were there.”

“Я была там?” she giggled and as she released my stomach from her weight I felt as if I was cut in half. She took a piece of white cloth and cleaned the sweat from my forehead. The Black Widow changed her colors right in front of me, transformed herself from a tough spy into a gentle nurse and to make matters more confusing she started to talk in English, “Was it a good dream?”

The pain in my belly became fierce and sent spears up my brain, preventing it from making any action. She slapped me again, but the stomach ache made all other attempts at hurting me feel like a light stroke. 

“Where am I?”

“Your hotel room.” she answered with indifference, her Russian accent almost absent from her speech. “Nice choice of place, made it easier to track you down.” 

“So this is not a dream?”

She was a pro, and pros blur the enemy’s perception of reality, “I guess so.” 

“Are you going to kill me?” 

“Haven’t decided yet.” She raised my shirt up to attend to my wound and I could see a red bandage attached to where the strongest pain came from.

“Anything else I should know before you knock me out with another one of your drugs?”

She opened the bandage, took a bottle of Iodine from underneath my bed and spilt some on my wound. I couldn’t resist but scream all kinds of bad words out into the compressed air and somehow she found it funny. “I don’t know quite yet, haven’t really thought it through.” she continued to sprinkle me with mystery.

I yearned to lose my consciousness again, to meet Natalia again in a friendlier environment, but the excruciating pain wouldn’t let me; both my brain and nervous system took sides with Natalia’s scheme. I was immobilized in almost every way and could barely use my speech muscles, so I did my best to talk. “You know what I dreamt about, I always talk in my sleep.”

“Yes, you do, are you always that dramatic when you dream?”

“What did you hear me say?”

“You talk too much for a man undergoing stress.”

“So, hit me again.” I remarked with urgency.

This wasn’t the response she expected “What?”

“Hit me with it again.”

“With what?”

“It’s Opium, right?”

She nodded, “The only material left in my stash.”

I laughed loudly, but the pain still made it impossible for me to really hear it. “That’s great. That’s fantastic really.”

“You’re being cynical.”

“You might as well kill me already.”

“You’re talking in riddles, I don’t like that.”

“You’re making such fine observations, you should consider a career as a spy. Hit me with the needle or whatever you’re using to torture me.”

“I think you need a little rest, get some real sleep.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to do so with that little present you gave me on my stomach.”

“It’s just a little cut, I needed to know how deep you were sleeping, I didn’t mean for it to go too far.”

“Oh, so you’re trying to mend it now?” I forced a smile on my face, “Which side are you on, lady?”

Her green eyes were red with rage; it was hard not to acknowledge the two shades mixing on the white canvas, drowning the black pupils, making her appear even more demonic. “Why didn’t you kill me, Agent Barton?” 

With great difficulty I raised my head so my anger could meet hers, “Why haven’t you killed me yet, Romanova?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I owe many thanks to these people:  
> Vablatsky, for his incredible patience and attention to details  
> Yika, the Skarsgaard to my Traviata, for helping me with the Russian  
> and Ayelet, Captain America according to her Zodiac sign, and Captain Grammar according to her Schnitzel sign.  
> <3


	3. Two dreams and a trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under the influence of drugs, Clint dreams about a life that he always wanted and like the Black Widow - reality bites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few cautionary notes:  
> English isn't my mother tongue, so I hope you'll excuse my simple sentence structures and my errors. The chapters from now on are not beta'd so double the "excuse me", I don't feel comfortable asking for it anymore, my bad.  
> +  
> I haven't read the comics, so the characters in the story are based on their depiction in the MCU.  
> But I added some features I got from my daily scroll down (...down...down) Tumblr.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this anyway!

We didn’t answer each other’s questions of course. We just spent a few seconds breathing heavily, two inflating chests met several times in a moment of true perplexion. I ended it all with a loud cry of pain, and she treated it with some white cream I couldn’t recognize by its label. In a matter of minutes I lost all memory of pain, and a couple of more later I fell into another sleep, this time without any drugs.

I dreamt of course, how could I not when every nerve in my body wanted to succumb to my subconscience? This time I was standing inside a foreign room, I beheld a wall with three wooden shelves, and a great sense of accomplishment was instilled within me. A tall kid with brown hair congratulated me on my efforts and I thanked him with a tight hug, addressing him as my son. This feeling of contentment escorted me to a messy living room, where a red-headed little girl played with her legos. Somehow I knew she was planning to build a fort in which she would put all of her lego-captives, her mother had taught her strategies she could use to do that. My son let go of my grip and joined her on the rug/minefield. I watched them play together and couldn’t be more proud of their team effort. I loved them dearly without knowing much about them, they were my children, a wish come true. 

There was someone missing in the whole picture and when I got out to the front porch I caught a glimpse of her. She was pregnant with our third child, fixing one of our cabinets with tools she shouldn’t use in her state. I came from behind her, wrapped my hands around the growing belly, and sniffed her hair which smelled of pine. Her red locks were cut down to her shoulders, making it easier for me to whisper in her ear. “You know, if you want this one to grow up to be an agent as well, he needs to rest before the big battle. And what you’re doing will probably result with different outcomes…” 

She didn’t turn to face me, and drilled another hole in the wooden canvas, “It’s not my fault that you cannot get pregnant.” 

“Well, we both didn’t plan that night in Bucharest either, and you said that we didn’t need any protection.”

She turned the construction drill down and placed both my hands on her belly. “It’s kicking! Can you feel it? Even little Steve is fed up with our banter.”

“I don’t care what our little kid thinks, he’s not allowed to complain, he’s living in the toughest strongest womb. Didn’t we plan to call him after that other guy who died? That Buchanan fellow?” I turned Natalia around to face me and she greeted me with a shy smile. With the little wrinkles on the side of each eyelid, she couldn’t be anymore perfect. Her beauty captivated me, and with the green forest behind her she looked like the greatest painting I wanted hung in front of my eyes for eternity. It’s so strange that one is able to achieve eternity in dreams, when they last for only 12 minutes. I gave her a little kiss on the lips and bent down to talk to our little creation, “enjoy your stay while you still can.”

“Barton, you have to stop with that sweet talk, or we will both vomit on you.”

An earthquake started to shake the ground beneath us, and before we made our way fast into the living room to our children, I noticed a hole opening up in the sky. 

Natalia grabbed my hand, she no longer was pregnant and wore a leathered S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. “He’s sending the party to us,” she tried to yell but I couldn’t quite hear her through the shrieks of machines drilling holes in my head.

My eyes opened for a few seconds, and everything was blurry. My whole body was aching, an itch started to make its way from my forearms down to my legs. I detected a red movement on my side, hands were rubbing the wound on my stomach but the soft touch didn’t really mend anything, on the contrary, it made it worse. I felt my body shrinking, not leaving enough space for air to get in and I choked on my own tears. There was only one solution I could think of, one that I’ve dreaded of phrasing but the pain didn’t leave me any choice.

“Morphine!” I yelled hard and loud. “Hit me!”

The red blur rested on my bare chest, Natalia was listening to the fastening pace of my heart. Her ear was warm, but my brain wouldn’t let me enjoy that moment. I felt the substance’s tight grip on my throat, choking me with a need that controlled me.

“Hit me!” I yelled as if a dragon was burning my vocal cords, “Hit me again, сука!” 

Natalia slapped me and added a frustrated “Твою мать“ but it didn’t help. On the contrary, it released a kind of hulk inside of me. The rage sparkled waves of power inside my limbs and enabled me to almost break the cuffs that bound me to the bed. The Widow got a hold of the situation and knocked me out with a kick in the nuts. I lost all sense of consciousness again when I heard her whispering “shhh” to my ear and she injected onto me what I demanded. Now, as I reminisce on this moment, it makes me laugh because Natalia’s way of handling me at that moment was based on sheer paranoia. Had she got it together, she would’ve handled it differently, with constraint. 

The sweet opium, which channeled its way inside my nerve system, sent me back to my dream farm. I was spending my time cooking in the kitchen, grilling flavoured Shashlik, and the sweet honey penetrated my nostrils with its blessed smell. I wore a purple apron that my kids bought me for my 40th birthday, on which the caption: “I came, I saw, I cooked” was printed in white. But there weren’t any children in the house, and I made the table for only three people with plates filled with the richness of Russian cuisine. 

I heard the sound of a motorcycle making its way to the front porch, and greeted Natalia with a smooch when she got in. 

“Oh, get a room.” I heard a familiar voice from behind her. It was Coulson, our honorary guest.

“We already got several,” I exclaimed and bowed down to him in order to make him more uncomfortable, “good evening, herr officer.”

My wife rolled her eyes, “I’m surrounded by idiots,” she made her way to the kitchen and sat at the head of the table. “Smells good, partner.”

My mind jumped a few moments ahead, and all the three of us sat in the tidy livingroom. We let Coulson have the honor of sitting on our black leather couch. It was only then when I noticed he was wearing a casual jumpsuit, an outfit I’ve never seen him put on. “Natalia told me about your plans to expand the Barton-Romanova household,” he chuckled, “you know, children-wise.”

“And you want us to adopt you?” I asked jokingly. I saw Natalia’s lips twitch a bit, but she didn’t let out any signs that she found my stupid joke funny.

Coulson, of course, had the ‘another one of these lame remarks and I’ll have you tasered all the way to Timbuktu’ look on his face. “I just wanted to make sure it’s clear that both of you are assets of great value in S.H.I.E.L.D. and we’ll support you any way we can.”

“An asset of great value?” I remarked with a sense of accomplishment.

“Clint,” Natalia interrupted with a swing of her hand, “just don’t. officer Coulson,”

“I’m wearing a jumpsuit and we’re not on duty, you can call me Phil.”

“Phil, if this means we’re going to get assigned on lesser leveled missions, I don’t want your consideration. You know what Clint and I are both capable of, and we’ll continue on doing our best work. If this means that Clint will have to stay and babysit, he’ll babysit, the same applies to me. Plus we have people from the area who’ll gladly help us.”

“What a weird conversation.” I suddenly exclaimed, and both heads turned to me with bewilderment. “I mean, here we are sitting talking about Natalia and I making children when I’m not even sure if I’m going to make it.”

“You have to, Barton.” Coulson said with confidence, “there’s no other way.”

Natalia’s image dissolved in front of my eyes. “I still don’t know what are her intentions with me.”

“She’s taking care of you.”

“While drugging me.”

“She’s making conversations with you.”

“While keeping the mystery level high.”

“She’s taking you somewhere.”

“While…” I hesitated, “what? where is she taking me?”

“You should wake up and find out…”

I looked at Natalia who reappeared and stood next to the fireplace. In her jeans and white t-shirt she seemed the least threatening, but somewhere in my subconscious I knew this image was the farthest from reality and still I wanted to hold on to that woman in my dream. I knew waking up meant letting my lady of dreams go, but there was no other choice for me since the drugs’ influence started to decay. Still, I tried to postpone the inevitable end with every cell in my mind. 

“You have to wake up, Clint.” she told me and her voice gave me the shivers, it echoed inside my ear and along with Coulson’s voice, the sound of that sentence got distorted more and more until there was nothing I could do about it.

I woke to find Natalia beside me, she tried to calm me down with what sounded like a Russian lullaby while petting my forehead with a cold and wet towel.

I exhaled her name, trying to summon the woman who came to visit me in my dreams, but she didn’t answer. Real Natalia’s head tilted with surprise, it was the first time I called her by her first name. I rubbed my eyes to see her long hair, which reassured me that I was back in my bed, a captive of the Black Widow.

Watching her playing doctor to my patient, I tried to remember how it’s been from the start. Ever since I began my research on her, she’s been infiltrating my dreams. At first it was her immaculate beauty which got me hooked on her, then her repertoire transcended all my expectations. But she got really deep into my subconscious when I saw her in Nevsky Prospekt, lending an affectionate gaze to agent Dunne, a stare I’d craved for myself. 

I was never shy about my shallowness, my eyes had always been on the lookout for female beauty. But Natalia was more than a face, she was a self-made woman who didn’t let the world lead her but rather made the world dance according to her rhythm. She worked for several agencies, but always came out on her own, without any ties or restrictions. She’s done the job, sealed the deal with every client, and left a window open enough for her to run away and move on. Looking at her, as blurry as she was to my eyes then, I wondered if she was using me as a window as well. I sure did hope so.

She stopped my contemplations by starting a conversation, “This wasn’t a good dream, I presume.” 

“It was a good dream, though it met an end. What did I mumble this time?”

“Something about you wanting to adopt Coul’s son? I didn’t give too much attention to what you were saying until you started screaming like a lunatic.”

“You took off the cuffs!” I remarked. 

“No, I didn’t.” she gave me a little smile, “You broke them in your sleep, and lucky for you, I didn’t bring my other pair with me.”

“I freaked you out there, huh?”

“It’s ok, I’m used to it.”

I felt the awkward silence approaching, and I prefered to prevent it. “It was nice waking up to see you mothering me.”

She smirked, ”It’s so easy with you, with all men actually. The Oedipus complex has made it easy for me and other female agents to take you down.”

“So that’s your plan? is there a father I should know of before I kill him? or maybe you’re going to kill me with kindness?”

“Maybe.”

“An assassin reveals her methods to her victims right before she kills them.”

“Are you referring to the ‘mother saviour’ plot? Because that’s only one of many.”

I began to laugh, and almost forgot about the pain following it, but it was mild. I let my free hand feel my stomach and felt the wound clean and stitched. 

“Agent Barton.” I loved that title coming out of her mouth.

“Call me Clint.”

“Agent Barton, the opium. You’re having a peculiar reaction to it.”

“That’s right.”

“Care to elaborate on that?”

I was just about to tell her some of the truth when there was a sudden tremble shaking the room. I used my fully regained sight to observe my surroundings. We were no longer in my hotel room that’s for sure. The ceiling above me was clean and white, the cell we were in was narrow and there was no shower curtain to mark the bathroom, just a door with a rectangular window. Behind me there was a bigger window reflecting the only two people present. Natalia was sitting on a long brown bench with a big bag aside her, and my face was whiter than the paint around me. 

It was clear to me, we were on the move, on a train somewhere. While I was making my deductions, Natalia prepared some ropes to tie me back to the single bed I was now lying on. 

‘I haven’t decided whether you’re an asset or not, so right now I’m focusing on paralyzing you. And maybe you’d be able to help me once we get there.”

“Where are we?”

“On a train.”

“Where to?”

“Tell me first what you were dreaming about that was so important for you.”

“Well,” I pressed my hands on the hard mattress and with a nod asked her for permission to sit. She nodded as well and helped me get comfortable with a couple of pillows behind my back. I settled on the least hurtful position and continued with my half-truth. “You were there.”

She looked at me with curious eyes, “do continue.”

“My boss was there.”

“You’re stalling, and it will cost you.”

“There were children involved.”

Natalia took a few steps back and landed on the bench, “children?” she chuckled.

“Yeah, you and I were living in a farm with our children.”

She started laughing, little reserved giggles, “that’s what you’ve been dreaming about every time? That’s what made you so weary?”

“It’s what I want most in life: family, stability, companionship. The typical human needs.”

Natalia served me with more reserved giggles, “and you wish to have them all with me?”

“I wish to have them with anyone who’d be willing to have me really. Isn’t that what most people are looking for?”

“You and I aren’t like most people. We feed off the blood of others, we don’t have time to take care of anyone else other than ourselves.”

“That’s right, and maybe because we both came from the same breed more or less, I can see us both having this kind of life. You might’ve seen me lose it during my sleep, but in my dreams I felt very soothed, I felt really… secure.”

Natalia changed shades in front of me. Her shoulders descended, her back gravitated toward the ground and her silence added more weight to the conversation. “I won’t give you all these things,” she whispered almost intently so I wouldn’t hear, “it’s a future I can’t be part of”.

I translated her lowered tone of voice as a call for a pep talk, “I didn’t mean to upset you, I don’t know you enough to expect anything from you, and as strangers who are just getting to know each other, I think this subject of conversation is kind of ludicrous.” she remained silent so I awkwardly continued my babble. “Who said I want it right now? And what is it that makes you underestimate yourself? The fact that I want those kind of things in my life doesn’t make me any better than you. Though I think it’s best to adopt a dog first, don’t you think?”

As I suspected, my verbal diarrhea only worsened the situation. She took out a syringe from her bag, “I gave out too much,” I took it as a complement that she felt the need to explain herself, “so you’ll have to excuse me if I’m going to shut you up for a while.”

My hungry eyes gave out how much I craved more of that substance, “One opium coming up?”

“No, it’s just a sedative. I need you up and ready when we get to our destination.”

“Wait!” I yelled, “I don’t have the power or the skills to stop you from giving me whatever it is, but first you promised to tell me where we’re heading.”

“Budapest. You’re going to help me take down a couple of KGB agents.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Yika, the melodica to my dramatic Jurassic Park theme, for helping me with Russian  
> and you, dear reader, for keeping up despite my lack of English skills :)


	4. An Improvised fort in Budapest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing can come between the Black Widow and her prey, not even Hawkeye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few cautionary notes:  
> English isn't my mother tongue, so I hope you'll excuse my simple sentence structures and my errors. This chapter was not beta'd so double the "excuse me", I don't feel comfortable asking for it anymore, my bad.  
> +  
> I haven't read the comics, so the characters in the story are based on their depiction in the MCU.  
> But I added some features I got from my daily scroll down (...down...down) Tumblr.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this anyway!

My mission, and I had no choice but to accept it, was to pull myself together. The sedative given by Natalia only soothed me, and I was half conscious of everything. I had no idea how Natalia was able to leave the train station and walk freely while rolling a bed with a man tied on it. We traveled the city inside a black van, she was the driver and my portable bed was tied behind her in the large trunk. Come to think of it, I wish there was this kind of service, where you get from one place to another without leaving the comfort of your mattress and blanket. Cuffs would be an accessory if one’s really into this kind of stuff. 

Anyway, big heavy bags were laid next to me, Natalia loaded them with the help of a few carriers from the train station. I’d never thought to ask her how she got them, but it was probably an aid sent as a favor to her by one of her past employers.

After a bumpy ride, we got to a big gray warehouse, almost fully empty, with a target board hanged on one of the walls in the far corner. I could see it from a distance even in the state I was in. 

“Is this our new home?” I asked.

She didn’t find it funny, “I need to know you’re going to be helpful, so you’re going to stay here, wait for me to bring us some food and drinks and then we’ll train.”

“I don’t need training. I can see the target from here, give me a bow right now and I’ll be able to hit wherever you’ll ask.”

“You’re sedated.”

“Believe me, it’s not my ego talking or any idiotic sense of overconfidence. When I know I can, I do it. Give me a bow and arrow and I’ll show you.”

Finally, I got her smile dosage of the day, “Your gear will arrive shortly, I got it taken care of.” 

“Really? How do you know what kind of weapons I use?”

“I don’t, but your guys at S.H.I.E.L.D. sure do.”

“‘You called S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Yes.” she said with confidence while pulling her shoulders to make her indifference show.

“Uh,” I choked on my own drool, “you called S.H.I.E.L.D. and they’re sending my gear here, and you’re confident they won’t send a couple of agents as well? to take you down?”

“I sent our coordinates, told them what our plan is and they confirmed the shipment. They also guaranteed they won’t have me compromised, an officer named Coulson said that you gave the order not to kill me. Plus, I revealed part of my plan which demands full governmental clearance for S.H.I.E.L.D., and it’ll take them days to get that. Bureaucracy prevails! The only thing left is to make sure that you and I are enough to make this mission a success.”

“What are we going to do?”

There was a great knock on the wide metal doors. A deep voice from behind it yelled “Nekem van egy csomagban! Miss Romanov?” I assumed he spoke Hungarian.

“Jövök!” Natalia yelled back while running to open the doors. She signed some papers and then dragged a big black box with an eagle sign on one of its sides. She kicked the lock off the crate and pulled out a bow from it. “Is this yours?”

“Let me see it.” I knew it was mine, but I wanted to feel its weight in my hands. 

Watching her walk towards me with my weapon made me feel like a little kid who watched his favorite superhero coming out of his screen. I was a little jealous, but I wasn’t sure of whom or what: Natalia for holding my lovely gear, or my bow for being in the grasp of one remarkable spy.

I tossed my little buddy to feel its stretch. I tightened my fist on its grip, and let my finger roll down the limb from the nock downwards. “Where are my arrows?”

Natalia untied my legs so I can get up and let my walking muscles stretch; feel the gravity of the ground again. I faltered on my way to the big box, slowly and surely. Inside the crate I could see Coulson made sure to send me enough ammo to take down the whole of Budapest. He added my “duty” leathered suit, a couple of training jumpsuits, underwear, snacks and a purple note with “Schmuck-eye” scribbled on it in black, on the other side Coulson wrote “glad to hear you’re still alive, let’s keep it that way.”

I took one of the basic arrows, shook my forearms to warm them up a bit and placed its beautiful nock on the fistmele. I wondered whether I should start my act with a tacky catch-phrase but instead I just shot the arrow without looking at the target. I already knew where it was, and my memory didn’t betray me on that hit. Behind me I heard Natalia shoes clicking their way to the target board - as I predicted, it was a perfect bullseye. 

“That…” Natalia stammered, “that was pretty amazing.”

“I told you, I know when and what I’m capable of, you can trust me on that.”

“We still need you to get in shape.”

We. She said We, and that We was us, and us meant a team. “Yeah, I’m a bit rusty thanks to you, but I imagine it won’t take me long to gather my strength back.”

“You have one day, but don’t take it too hard, the way I planned it you’re going to need your legs only in the end.” she dryly explained, “I’m going to get us something to eat. Do you have any allergies I should know of?”

“Ah, yeah,” I said without taking my eyes off my bow, “anything healthy will be the death of me.”

“What would you like on your salad, then?

***

The day continued with an intense set of training with Natalia as my personal instructor.The set included a bit of Yoga, Jiu-Jitsu and a lot of running. I didn’t ask too many questions because I knew Natalia wouldn’t let out any information. I just waited for her instructions and trusted her to lead us to our first joint victory. 

She briefed me on some of our targets’ identities and the reasons why we were going to hunt them down. These five agents were her associates when she officially worked for the KGB, and they tried to blow up her cover and have her arrested by the government. They knew that she’s going to spread her wings and fly away, but the KGB directors still needed her and ordered the assholes to endanger her so she would understand that there’s no way out, and that KGB was her only chance at survival. They didn’t succeed of course, but they still were a threat to her since they held files that could reveal almost everything about her line of work, in and out of the KGB. “They’re going to come with the file containing all of the classified information, and our job is to grab it from them and, of course, kill them afterwards.”

‘Why would they carry it with them? How do you know they haven’t made copies of these files?”

“It’s going to be a meeting concerning the elimination of several ex-employees and I’m one of them. I’m certain there aren’t any more copies because if they’d made them, they would’ve been dead already. If you want to die quickly and with the least pain, all you have to do is make an unauthorized copy of an agent’s profile. I worked for several agencies that made sure my information won’t transfer anywhere. Only the KGB got a hold of most of my repertoire, but they’re the KGB, so…”

“Yeah, got it. Sounds somewhat farfetched...”

“Don’t judge what you can’t understand.”

“Hey,” I raised my surrendered hands, “just thinking out loud.”

On the cold night following my day of recovery we moved all our property into the van and drove to another warehouse. It was smaller than the one before, and was located in an industrial site on the outskirts of Budapest. Natalia’s sources informed her that a meeting was arranged between the five agents with another organization at a place nearby. The little gathering was set to be held the afternoon after, but we had a lot to work on beforehand. I was to serve as bait and lead them to the bunker that we started to build for ourselves on that night. 

There was an abandoned garage from which we hauled a couple of vehicles to use as a wall for our improvised fort. The sandbags Natalia loaded on the van in the train station were used also as shields from the five agents’ should they be stupid enough to attack us. 

We spent the night hiding inside our little metal fortress, sitting comfortably next to each other. I was to be the first one to take a 3 hours break of sleep, but I decided I’ve spent enough time resting and offered Natalia to double her sleep time but she refused. “More than 3 hours of slumber will turn me into a zombie.”

“Then how do you propose we spend the time we have together?”

“There are a lot of ways I can think of, but enjoying the silence seems to me preferable.” from her tone I could hear she was only taunting me. 

I rolled with her flow, “there are a lot of things we can do in silence, or attempt to keep it that way.”

“You don’t sound like a kind of person who’s able to stay quiet, not even for 3 minutes.”

“Oh, you’re giving away too many secrets, agent Romanova. Three minutes? that’s a long time to break one’s silence.”

“Your ways of euphemism are stuff of legends,” she squinted and nodded her head, “really.”

“Look at you, so comfortable while talking me down… we’re only one step away from marriage.”

“It’s YOUR way of making a conversation, not mine.”

“And since when do you follow anyone’s lead, even in small talk?”

“I guess I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

I restrained myself from laughing too hard, “Why didn’t you? You owe me an answer.”

“I don’t owe you anything, and I told you - I needed you to help me with this assignment.”

“And after that?”

“Why do you think I called S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“You know about my plan?”

“What plan? I sent your coordinates so they’ll know where from to pick you up. I bet their people are somewhere near the big warehouse, but they don’t know where we’re at now. So I’m not worried.”

“How do you know I haven’t sent them any signals? A tracking device is probably attached to my crater”

“I dismantled it, and I know you won’t betray me because... well... you wouldn’t, you’re enjoying this too much to put this to an end. If you had suspicions about my intentions with you, you would’ve struck me already. But there you are, right beside me, with your weapons only a hand away, and I’m still living and breathing.”

“And aren’t you interested to know why I didn’t kill you?”

“You think you’re the first to recognize how big of an asset I’ll be to your company? There were other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, amongst other organizations, who tried to convince me to join them right before I finished them, but I prefer to be on my own.”

“Don’t you want to work for the good guys for a change?”

“What makes you the good guys?”

“I work for an organization that takes the people, the citizens, into consideration.”

“And would you trust me with the lives of others?”

“I trust you with mine, so that’s a start…”

“Clint Barton, you have a way with words, I’ll give you credit for that.”

“You’ve just called me by my full name, I swear, next step would be choosing a cake. I’m more of a chocolate cake guy, FYI.”

I heard a little giggle bouncing its way from her belly, “How’s your stomach?”

“I almost forgot you ruthlessly cut it.”

“And what about the opium?”

“Almost forgot about it until you mentioned it. don’t really crave it right now,” I rubbed my shoulder against hers, “for some reason.” 

Natalia cleared her throat, and for a second she looked straight into my eyes, but I still wasn’t sure whether it was an act or an authentic portrayal of real emotion, “Are you an addict?”

“I am an addict, but it varies. Drugs make me an addict in certain circumstances, violence has been an addiction of mine for quite some time. Everything that gives me thrill, gets me all excited about life, I’m prone to become its slave.”

“And how do you deal with any of that?”

“After a long time of hating myself for being so weak that way, I realized that there’s nothing I can do about it. I tried rehab, but every minute of sobriety is just another invitation for something else to come and get me. That’s who I am, working for S.H.I.E.L.D. has kept me sane in the healthiest way possible.”

“And still you wish for stability.”

“In any way or form. It’s stupid, I know.”

“No,” Natalia dramatically seated herself in front of me, “wishing is never stupid.”

I smiled at her but unfortunately didn’t achieve the reciprocal reaction from her, “what do you wish for?”

She didn’t answer, just sat there in front of me and gazed on a point beyond my shoulder. She didn’t know I wasn’t expecting a reply, I was asking the question just to make sure she was honest with me. I could see her struggle to maintain the void between her heart and her mouth, and I learned that this is when she’s most honest. I took my chances and reached my hand to hold her trembling cheek, but she violently stopped me before I got there.

She squeezed my fingers with too much force, “Shut up, Barton. I think we better be quiet from now on. Go to sleep, practice meditation, I don’t care, but just keep silent.”

“I won’t be of any use if you keep hurting my good hand…” I replied with an anger that tempted me to strike back, but the sound of footsteps outside distracted us both. Natalia snook to the window to get a peek on who were our new visitors.

“It’s them,” she whispered, “just as I feared, they’re early.”

I gathered myself and sat erect, “S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“No, the other agents.”

Natalia took her position behind the fort, cocked her two handguns and nodded her head as a sign for me to put our mission in motion. I quickly grabbed my bow, wore my arrows on my back, and crept beneath the window until I felt it was the right moment to make my strike. Their boots treaded smoothly on the concrete, the heels pressed gently so no one would hear they’re approaching, but nothing skipped our ears. Natalia’s eyes were fixed on me, and when the time was right we both counted down from 3...2...1... I hit one of them like thunder, straight in the heart, he was dead in a matter of seconds. 

I revealed the upper part of my forehead through the little window to them, so they’d know where my arrow came from, and take the bait. I could see the briefcase that was supposed to contain Natalia’s file. Looking a bit upward, I could detect another moving dot, I focused as it started to glow and only in the end I realized it was someone lighting his flashlight, sending me a message in morse code. I had a change of plans, apparently. 

We heard the agents running towards us, and so I took my spot next to Natalia. It was too dark and we weren’t ready for a nightly shootout, so we started to hit them like crazy. It was the least professional I’d ever been, but we wouldn’t stop until we were sure nobody was left alive in front of us. She ordered me to stay down while she checks the area, I counted four agents down, it was all too easy, they really weren’t expecting us. From behind us we heard another set of footsteps, this time quicker and louder stomps on the floor. 

“We’ve got company!” I whispered as loud as I could. Natalia wouldn’t join me in the fort until she got the briefcase, and when she did, she made a few impressive somersaults back to me. She prepped herself for another battle once she got on my side and knelt on her briefcase.

“Mission accomplished?” I asked.

“Once we get rid of our new guests. Where did all of my ammo go?” 

As quick as I could, I tried to knock her off with my bow, but she managed to twist my arm and make me regret I chose to attack her like this. I used my leg to kick her in the knees, and use her momentary lapse of concentration to turn around, push her backwards and get the briefcase. She regained her position, jumped her way up from the ground, and punched me in the nose while using her free hand to reach for her gun and shoot anyone trying to approach our fort. The pain set my inner hulk free, and with the strength I got left, I threw the briefcase towards Dunne who luckily was there in time to catch it. The last thing I remember seeing was Natalia kneeling down to take out a needle from her boot and fixing me with yet another dose of opium.

I closed my eyes and the last thing I heard was her whisper in my ear: “Mission Accomplished.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, dear reader, for reading!


	5. Something better than coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting knocked down by Natalia, Clint recieves an unexpected dose of sympathy. This is where stuff get kinky.

I was sitting inside a tent at night, it was lit with only two candles resting on black stools on the opposite edges. The wide white fabric flowed according the currents of the strong blizzard outside and a tall black shadow tainted it with terror. “Why did she do that?” the shadow asked me with a stone cold baritone voice. 

“I don’t know,” I answered, “I thought she was going to terminate me there and then, but I’m here aren’t I?”

“Are you aware of where you are?”

I looked around me again and saw the same scenery, only a mirror emerged from nowhere and I could see myself dressed in a tight circus suit. The purple trousers itched, the yellow blouse was wet from my sweat and my suede shoes didn’t really fit. At first it felt like I was tied to the chair I was sitting on, but then I discovered I was free to come near my new deep-voiced host. “Where am I?” I asked while I made my careful steps towards the strange character in front of me. As I grew closer, a memory was creating itself inside my brain and the man became familiar. My eyes added colours to every feature, ending with a dark shade of red on his hair. “Barney!” I gasped, “what’s going on here? you’re supposed to be…” 

“dead?” his voice changed to its usual tone. “Yes, I am still dead.”

The candle light spread across the whole tent, and made it easier to take a closer look at my late brother. “So this means… I’m dead as well?”

‘Nah,” Barney nodded, “does this look like heaven to you?”

“With you here, it seems to resemble hell.”

“Nah,” he repeated in mechanic speech, “hell is only inside your mind. Don’t you remember this place? this moment?”

The second he finished his question, I felt a pain creeping up my spine, and auditory nails were hammering inside my head. 

“You start to remember don’t you?” he asked with a cheeky smile while I was twitching on the floor; the pain was too much to handle. “Barney! Barney!” he mimicked the same voice I made when I was a terrified little boy, “you have to give me more of your magic pills! I can’t take the pain! I fell too hard on the floor!” 

“This is a dream” I tried to whisper to myself under the weight of his boot on my back, “only this time it’s an opium induced nightmare, and I have to get out of here. I have to stay conscious of that, it’s only a fucked up dream.”

“Clinton, you need to relax. You already know there’s only one way to resolve this.”

“Shut up, Barney. You’re just a figure of my imagination.”

“You’re 100% right, but it’s not my fault that even in your imagination you crave it, just admit it! I’m here as a reminder of your worth, which equals 0%. Now, it’s only a question of how much time it will take you to succumb to your needs, get to her medicine bag and end it all.” 

My dearest brother stomped his boot hard on my back, and stayed there so I won’t budge. In that very moment I remembered exactly what was going on. The hallucination was based on a memory I had of the night after my brother introduced me to morphine. I was 12 years old, it was my third time performing with them after we joined that failing circus company. I fell off a rope, doing a trick I wasn’t trained for, and I ached for a sedative to make at least part of the pain go away. Barney was the complete opposite of merciful that time, he watched me roll around on the floor, with a big smile on his face. The same happened in the dream.

“You think you’re worth saving?” he laughed like a hyena, the way my foster father did every time he hit me with his belt. “All this time you served in S.H.I.E.L.D., all your business with that rogue girl, it doesn’t matter because in the end you’re nothing, Clinton. You knew that from the start, you tried to handle it once but you couldn’t because you’re a coward. Why don’t you do the right thing and help the world get rid of us Bartons? Join me, the world can’t afford our mistakes, there’s no turning back from who we were born to be - dead.”

I was able to roll over my back and grab his shoe tightly, but I couldn’t twist it, “Who do you think you are? your words are poison.” His face figure became nothing but a shadow. 

“If truth is poison then so be it. You know what I’m speaking about, we addicts have no place in this world. All you need is just a little push and you’ll be here with me, little brother, just one push.”

“Shut up!” I screamed as hard as I could my throat started to burn with the heat of my blood.

“You think you’re going to make all those other dreams come true? Set up a safe house away from everything, have all of your family protected by secrecy just as Fury promised from the beginning?” He took off his boot, but I was still paralyzed, forced to watch him mimic my speech yet again: “‘Director Fury, I need a guarantee that whenever I decide to start a family they’ll be off all records, I don’t want them at risk.’ such a heroic statement, I’m sure Fury shit his pants hearing you talk like some sort of Steve Rogers. Cut the crap, little brother.” 

Behind him the soft fabric transformed into a wall on which a movie was screened. The image of Natalia wearing her victorian black dress made me shiver with excitement. She was dancing the Waltz gracefully with another man across the hall. I was there as well, a spectator from the side, yearning to mean so much more to her. The frame was cut in the middle and I saw the farm I dreamt about. Natalia winked at me from a painting I hung on my wall and behind me all I could see was wreck and ruin. In the middle of the rubble there was a see through cell wherein my children were locked. Inside the big crater they fought each other without remorse while a robot was watching them and taking notes. Every punch bullied my stomach and every kick was a pain in my heart. The image shifted to Fury’s office, where he informed agents including myself that Coulson has been compromised. His eye lingered on me, insinuating that I was the one to blame for that, and I was left with no one on my side. That was it, the dreams that made me blossom and hopeful became crumbles of desperation at my feet, and I lacked all strength to collect and savour them.

In the background I heard Barney talk in Coulson’s voice. “Forget about the farm, your wife, children, that redhead doesn’t seem even half-interested in you. Once your eyes will be open, you think she’ll be there? Ask forgiveness for this opium overdose? Do you hear her cry for watching you twist and twirl around like a dying hawk? Give me a break, dreams are meant to be dreamt, they come true only for those strong enough to endure the uncertainty of the world. We’re not survivors, Clinton, we have always been the last in the food chain, we’re the hunted trying to fit into a hunter’s disguise. Stop playing the hero and immerse your soul with the victim that you’ve always been. Take the opium.”

There was no tear that I thought appropriate for the moment, no act of emotion that would suffice to convey how true these words rang to my ears. Barney left me alone on the floor, all folded on like a baby whilst emptying myself from everything except one notion - I was desperate for another does - that drug needed to end me. 

The tent dissolved and I saw my hotel room, the fish on the blue shower curtain were swimming on the canvas, passing through the fabric to the walls and out of the window. As the sunbeams touched their shiny scale, the whole changed around me. I was lying on a different bed, in another hotel room, not sure it was Budapest. I reached my hand for the cabinet beside the bed but there was nothing on it, nor there was anything inside the drawers. From across the bed I could see Natalia’s black bag and I gathered all the strength I’d got left to crawl out of the bed and open it. The white pills were waiting for me inside, with a nice addition of a liquid I presumed was Vodka. 

I wasn’t able to further my search since Natalia entered the room, and she ended my excavations with her boot pinning my abdomen to the floor. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I didn’t resist, just used my hand to point out what I wanted. “I need more of that, I have to get it into my system, I have…”

“Stop it!” she pulled me up, and dragged me away from the bag. 

“I need it,” I wanted to spell her full name, but all I could get out of my mouth was “Nat.”

“No you don’t.” she lifted and put me back on the bed.

“Please,” I begged, “let’s end it right here right now.”

“Stop it!” she repeated herself. She rolled me on my back and sat on my stomach, “I exaggerated with what I gave you, but it’s nothing you can’t recover from. Just get your shit together.”

I grabbed her thighs and the volume of my voice followed the high level of my anger, “Give it to me! I don’t need this damp reality, I want to return to my safe haven where I can be who I aspire to be.”

“You’re talking shit and I don’t work well with pitiful mumbo jumbo, especially when it’s the drugs that put these words in your mouth,” Natalia tied my hands with hers and pressed her weight against me to prevent me from moving. “These drugs take you places, I know, I learned how to overcome their influence and so can you. Imagination will always be better than reality,”

“This is not a pep talk, right?” I tried to resist her but she was way stronger than me, “isn’t it what you wanted all along? to end me?”

“Right now I’m considering this option, stop moving сука! Твою мать!” she finally broke in front of me and returned to her “standard” position on my belly. “I’m sorry, ok? I overdid everything, I shouldn’t have given you that drug but you left me no choice. You betrayed me, and that’s how I’ve usually handled traitors. I’m sorry, agent Barton, I really am.” 

“It’s Clint.”

“Shut up!” 

“I really need another dose, just one more to go back to where I want to be.”

Natalia bent over me again, but this time she pressed her lips on mine. “Isn’t this where you want to be?” she whispered to me right after that.

“Wh…” I chuckled, her pupils spread and threatened to take over her green eyes “what are you doing?”

“I’m making a point.” she continued whispering before slipping me another warm kiss which lingered on my lips for a few moments. After a few gentle nips she turned to my ear, “Did you feel something close to this in your dreams?”

She raised herself a bit but I couldn’t resist the temptation to catch her with my lips once again, “it does.” I said in between them, “feels more,” another quick kiss on the side of her lips, “real.”

She pinned my head back and let it sink deep in the pillow with her forehead. Her warm breath crept into my mouth as she let her tongue slip through my teeth. I couldn’t help but gasp, and by reflex tried to roll her over so I’d be on top, but she stopped me halfway and regained her position on top of me. “This is enough,” she whispered in between her loud breaths. 

“Hey,” I raised my hands to surrender, “if you say stop we stop.”

“I don’t want to tire you, just wanted to make my case clear.”

“Mission accomplished,” I said with a wide grin that she somehow found alluring. 

My hands were still up and she lowered them, softly caressing her fingers with mine. “You said you’re man enough to admit it when you’re capable or not.” She placed my hand on her lower back and taunted my sharpened senses as she rubbed her crotch with mine, slowly moving forward and backwards, “Are you?”

I let out a little moan, “awww… coffee.”

She stopped, “what?”

“Oh shit, I think it’s the drugs putting words in my mouth again.”

“Coffee?”

“Hey, I love it.”

“You’re stalling.”

“No, I’m just surprised. But I am... “ I cleared my throat, “capable.”

I was only half-honest, since my muscles were still sore from that tent nightmare. I lost all fragments inside my brain distinguishing dream from reality as her lips gently stung the edges of my face. I let her lead me inside her, removed every sense of awkwardness and shame by admitting that I had no clue how to treat her, that she’s a code I’ll never be able to decipher without her showing me the way. 

Natalia slowly removed my shirt. Right afterwards I followed my urge to kiss her again, cupped her cheeks with both my hands and laid my swollen lips on hers. She loosened my grip, and with her thigh pressed against me, she directed me to lie on my back again. With a satisfied purr she started her way down. If I wasn’t hard enough, she made sure all of my energies will assemble in that particular spot, as she followed the lines of my chest; first with the tip of her nose, then her tongue tickled my upper abdomen and finally she spoiled me with a few kisses down under . She finally undid the sweat pants, and before removing my underwear she sent me a taunting grin, “All is well?”

“Ah…”

“Coffee?” She teased me with a giggle but didn’t wait for me to continue my mumble, with my little help she slipped the underwear off my legs and I couldn’t but let out a little sigh of excitement, that lasted longer than expected when she wrapped her fingers around my cock and softly squeezed it. In a steady pace, she rubbed it a little and then kissed the tip of my erection. I felt my whole face burning up with a blush of desire, and without restraint I pleaded her to continue. She continued to stroke the base, and let her mouth part over the pink flesh and continued down and up.

“Natalia.” I moaned with a whisper. It was no longer just a name, it no longer contained only red-headed flesh and blood. A promise was encapsulated inside those three syllables, a guarantee I didn’t need those dreams anymore. With every thirsty clench of the muscle, every invigorated pulse, I forgot all about the past. She planted a chip I’d longed for in my reality ever since I was a little scared boy trapped in a closet thanks to my alleged father. It was a particle that made me believe not only that there’s hope outside of me, but there was a chance for me to shine as well. In my moment of climax I forgot all about Coulson, Fury or any other men from whom I seeked approval, from that point on my mind went blank and there was only one image interesting - Natalia. 

“You ok?” I heard her saying when I relapsed. 

“Never been better,” I answered. I was fully rejuvenated, on the brink of overdosing on my own strength, when I got up and caught Natalia by the bottom and pulled her to sit on me. “This shouldn’t be one-sided, you know?”

“Thank you,” she pushed my kiss away, “but I’m not interested.”

“Oh,” I let her go, “this is embarrassing.”

“How about a shower instead? It’s been a long night and day, we should wash them off”


	6. Abstract relationship never die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the hit Natasha took in Wakanda, Clint puts things into perspective, almost.
> 
> My attempt at writing an end to a story, I was never great at that.

Excuse me for fast forwarding to this day. I’m writing this on a random paper I ripped from my wife’s notebook. I’m living in a farm, I have two children I couldn’t be more proud of and another one will soon join our little Barton camp. I am more than a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent today, I’m an official avenger and Natasha, formerly known as Natalia, has been my wingwoman in and out of the field ever since our first meeting. 

Till this day I remember almost every single detail from those Nevsky dreams, and from the whole journey with Nat. One thing she made sure I’d forget was the fact that I betrayed her. Until this day I didn’t know how S.H.I.E.L.D. got their hands on her file. In addition to all of that, I didn’t know she was blackmailed into joining the organization, this was information she revealed before me only tonight.

I took my fellow avengers to my house, where they could be sure they’d be safe from the scrutiny of the world. Natasha, amongst my other teammates, was one of Wanda Maximoff’s victims. With her magic, Wanda took Natasha back to a time when she was unmade in the Red Room, where she learned how to enhance her skills and eventually became the renowned Black Widow. 

Natasha and I both suffered from insomnia due to recent events, and like many other nights she spent in my humble abode, we met in our usual place (the living room) for our regular nightly IA meeting (insomniac anonymous). I made the usual Earl Grey tea (it was the only brand Laura liked) and Nat disclosed every detail of her forced trip inside her fears courtesy of the Maximoff sister. Not that I didn’t know almost everything about what she had to endure in that Red Room, but Natasha needed the release, and I was there for her as a best friend should be. We took our regular posts on the long sofa, Natasha on one end and me on the other, trying to get as much space so I could enjoy my lazy horizontal position. 

“Do you ever think back on how we met?” she asked. 

“You’re talking about that time I saved your life from the wrath of my arrow?”

“Yeah, that time when you acted like the asshole you’ve always been and I had to sedate you with hard drugs so you’d shut up and let me get the job done.”

“Nope, not even an inkling of recollection.”

“It would be my genuine pleasure to punch you in your new stomach.“

“You know, I asked Dr. Cho to treat the scar you gave me very carefully, I didn’t want it removed.”

“Don’t get too nostalgic on me, Barton.”

“Hey, you’re the one who started this reminiscence trip. What’s that all about?”

She straightened her back and leaned a bit forward, a gesture I had to mimic since it meant future seriousness is due, “What do you remember from our last night in Budapest?”

“Awww… Coffee.”

“And by coffee you mean…”

“You know, you gave me coffee. Coffee is the new fondue.”

Natasha silently let out a little giggle. “Do you remember the shower afterwards?”

“Ah..” I scratched my head as if it would allow to recollect more of the past, “After the coffee, I remember us packing our stuff and getting on a plain straight to headquarters.”

“So you don’t remember the shower.”

“Did we shower together?”

“Yes.”

“How would I be able to forget a thing like that?”

“Because I made sure you won’t.”

“How?”

Natalia averted my overwhelmed facial expression, “Another form of Cognitive re-calibration”

“And why? What happened there?”

Natasha moved away from me and took her place on the single couch in front of me. “I don’t know what I’m saying. It’s probably that Maximoff twin who made me all worked up.”

“Nat.”

“Don’t, let’s just sit here in silence for a moment, I need to collect my thoughts. I’ve already compromised myself in front of Banner up there, asked him to run away with me, I don’t know why I did that.”

“You need a man to mix your brew.”

“Shut up, Barton. I don’t know what the hell I was saying to him. I don’t need a man, a woman or any sort of pet to do anything for me. I guess I crave some human affection.” she lowered her voice so I couldn’t hear the rest of the sentence, “maybe that’s what reminded me of the shower.”

“I can read your lips from here, you know.”

“So?”

It wasn’t like her to be so evasive, not with me. We made a pact - always tell the truth, no matter how brutal it is. I didn’t need a lot of convincing in order to lay it all out to her, she on the other hand was a piece of work. Lucky for me, I found the right word that would make her realize she’s not following our mutual contract. “Tasha,” I whispered and then moved to sit on the cabinet beside her couch. 

“Did you just Tasha me?” she frowned.

I didn’t let it stop me, I smiled at her and repeated myself with a softer voice, “Tasha.”

“What?”

“What happened after our coffee-act?”

“Nothing, Clint. We just stood inside the bathtub with water running on us. Believe me, you don’t want me to elaborate on this matter, just let it go.”

“You know I can’t, you’ll have to spill it out and the sooner the better.”

“We…” she cleared her throat and I enjoyed the rare occasion of watching her uncomfortable. “We were like Adam and Eve, naked without being really conscious of it, comfortable in our own exposed skin. It felt so natural, but yet so weird because we were rubbing the soap on each other but it didn’t feel sexual, nor did it feel like we were somehow related. We just cleaned and caressed each other with a few stolen kisses in the middle. You elicited a new kind of emotion from me, and as we wrapped ourselves in the hotel towels I decided it was too much for me. My whole being was compromised and I was scared of that.”

“So you hit me in the head.”

“I hypnotized you…”

I almost fell off the cabinet, “HYPNOTIZED?”

“It was the first and last time I practiced that, but it was a success…”

“No it wasn’t.”

She leaned backwards, “you remembered?” she hit me hard on my forearm, “you remembered and you made me go through this again?”

“No, it didn’t work for you, Natasha, because this connection you tried to erase, it exists and I believe will never break.”

“You’re going to make me vomit.”

“Tasha.”

“What is it with me?” she raised her voice in desperation, her eyes wet with tears. “I’m usually able to control my own feelings but now, being here, after everything we’ve gone through…” 

I took her by the hand and kissed it, and boy was I glad that she didn’t resist. “It’s called puberty,” I remarked with a smirk, “you’ll be fine.”

She refused to let go of my grip, “you’ve really done a great job fulfilling your wishes, you know? There were several times in Saint Petersburg and Budapest where I was sure you’re going to slit your throat, and look where you are now.”

“I wonder if there are other events that you decided to erase from my memory…”

“Like you said, you and I remember Budapest very differently, but maybe now it’s time to open it all up.”

We spent all night reliving our memories from the Prospekt. Natasha let me squeeze myself into the couch with her, and we sat with our limbs wrapped around each other, leaving no space for any other company. She told me exactly how events went through in Budapest, and swore this was the last time she tried to control my mind.

She let me know that she resolved her issues with S.H.I.E.L.D. and eventually forgave Fury for his method of recruiting her to the organization. 

I told her she should try and see where things go with Bruce, although I didn’t really understand the sudden connection she had with him. We discussed her issues with children, and I reminded her of a phrase I used back then: she wasn’t a monster for not having children, plus there was always the option of adopting. 

At one point the two of us were in the moment, both silent and almost inanimate, as if there was this barricade disabling us from saying anything else on any matter. Natasha moved herself so she could rest her head on my shoulder. After a few seconds I checked if her eyes were still open and when our pupils met, they sent me back in time to the Prospekt. I was younger then, an unaccomplished asshole with ambition in one hand and the will to kill in another. Natalia changed that. Without any intention of doing so and without fully inhabiting any of these attributes, she taught me mercy and patience, and I became slower with my fist and faster with my sympathy. Since that meeting in the Prospekt I became someone else, someone better, and I did it not for but thanks to her.

You’ve got a connection, Coulson used to say during our daily S.H.I.E.L.D. training with Natasha. I already knew that. Sitting in silence with her on the couch, I knew it had grown stronger. We were Adam and Eve, only much aware of our surroundings and less innocent. 

“Barton,” she whispered and I suddenly realized that not only were our pupils popping out of their socket to meet, but our lips were only a few millimeters apart. 

I stopped right there and then, but remained still, “yes?”

“You know I was scared, right? It was too much for me.”

“Scared of what?”

She followed the lines on my face and reached her hand to stroke my hair. “We’ve never talked about regret.”

“Nat.”

“Hey, I just exposed myself in front of Banner, not to say the whole world. I guess it’s time for you to know everything.”

“What do you regret?”

“If I say it then this moment won’t last longer.”

“Nat.” I gulped.

She did as well, “Clint.”

“So we just stay this way, in an almost state?”

She took a deep breath and let it all out, and particles of it found their way into my mouth. “Yeah, I guess.”

“For a person who acts like she knows everything, you sure do guess a lot.”

“No jokes, Barton, or we’ll lose it.”

“We will have to lose it, won’t we? It’s going to be morning eventually and our little “planet almost” will vanish.”

She backed away a bit but I stopped her with my hand, “Tasha.” It didn’t help, she got up from the sit and before making her way back to the bedroom she shared with Banner she turned to me with half of a smile. 

“Maybe it’s better to leave it like this, and time will do the trick.”

I got up from the chair so I could face her, “Yeah, time has done a great job at tricking us into thinking it’ll do the trick. You really think that this… you and I… is something that can just evaporate?”

“It has to.”

“Well, it won’t.”

“What are you talking about, Clint? Can you hear what you’re saying? We’re standing in the middle of a living room which you help build with your wife, who’s spending the night lying in bed with your two and a half children.”

“I’m not going to leave all that, Tash. I just wanted you to know that it… you know… just won’t. And though it should bother us, I see it as a sort of consolation because it makes what we have special. Time can’t just pull what we have out of a hat and make it disappear, and as long as we are both aware that it’s there…”

“What is this “it”?”

“Something that should not be determined by words, or a depiction of a feeling. Something bigger than what our vocabulary is able to explain. Something that should be kept in our little realm of almost, because reality made it that way.”

Natasha took a few steps towards me and I did so as well and we met in a strong embrace.

“But Nat, you deserve the life you want. If it’s a life of running away with Banner then so be it. But you’re not one to just hide away, you’re above all that. Be the woman who you always were - one who doesn’t turn her back from a fight. You may have revealed yourself to the world, you might not get to live a quiet farm life, but you’ll find your way. Either alone, or together with someone else.”

“and you.”

“There’s no other way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, dear readers, for seeing above my poor English. It's a language I'm in love with, but still haven't got the hang of. 
> 
> Oh, and long live Clintasha! Hoped you liked this fic!


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